


when time from time shall set us free

by JaneScarlett



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneScarlett/pseuds/JaneScarlett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truthfully, she wasn’t certain what she’d expected.  But Gallifrey… it was a sight unlike anything the Luna University had to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when time from time shall set us free

**Author's Note:**

> written for the rdficathon.
> 
> The prompt (which I almost completely ignored. Sorry about that): _12 and River exploring post-Time of the Doctor Gallifrey. River might cause some trouble to embarrass her old fox and there might be some sacred artefacts of Rassilon involved. Surprisingly, the stuffy Gallifreyans totally dig it because it’s River and who couldn’t love her. Rated T please._
> 
> Thanks to Sarah, most especially for inspiring head-canon of Grand Theft Auto. Title from ‘in time of daffodils’ by e. e. cummings.)

Four months, and finally finished. With a sigh, River blacked out one last day on her calendar before pushing her computer back into her purse. One semester of boring introductory-level classes completed at the Luna University; and what did she have to show for it?

Truthfully, not much. Excellent grades (even though she was certain that somewhere in the Universe, Amy Pond was laughing herself sick at the thought that her daughter was now a straight-A student). An empty dorm room in a century not her own. No contact with her parents... or him. 

The Doctor. 

_Stupid Doctor. Interfering, moral-less tyrant._

River bit the inside of her cheek, sternly reminding herself to relax. Snarling and fighting at even the thought of his name was ingrained, learned behaviour. Not justified right now… even though he _was_ the reason she was here at all.

After Berlin, she had been wondering what one did after nearly fifty years of assassin training. Travel, maybe? She’d been giving serious thought to copious amounts of alcohol while lying on a beach in the Caribbean, when the Doctor had smiled, sheepishly suggesting in his roundabout way that she _might_ want to look into school to find a new hobby. After all, learning never hurt anyone… (And she’d pretended not to know what he meant. She’d learned quite a lot in those years with Madame Kovarian. Pity most of it was devoted to espionage and murder; not exactly skills to put on a CV.).

River sighed again. The Doctor had left her at the Luna, promising once again: _You will be amazing_ … but somehow, after the last four lonely months of studying, she was having trouble believing that academic achievement could ever become the pinnacle of her aspirations.

“Right,” she said aloud, tucking her hair behind her ears, frowning when the curls sprang back to their original places a moment later. “I'm ready to leave.”

“Seems like I got here just in time then,” said a voice said from the doorway. 

River froze. She hadn’t heard anyone there – the door should have been locked – and oh, she was stupid. _So_ stupid, allowing herself to feel safe here. But her nightmares had abated in the last few months... the Doctor himself had told her to come here... She swallowed nervously, hearts racing as she calculated the time it would take for her fingers to reach her holster.

“Treasure my precision,” the stranger went on. “Arriving at just the right time on your last day to whisk you off, before you get into trouble? Even you’d have to admit I’m doing well.”

Hard-wired reflexes kicked in at last. Her hands didn't even tremble as she stood up, spinning around and clicking the safety, her gun pointed unerringly at the intruder's head all within 1.5 seconds.

“Don't shoot,” the man scolded absently, staring at her above the barrel of her gun. “It's only me.”

“Only you?” said River. “That's nice, but I don't know you.” She didn’t… except that those long years trained to be the Doctor’s assassin were a blur. They’d honed her observational skills and memory to track him until she was perfect; and yet _their_ names and faces were all mixed up, like parts of her memories had been eaten away.

So he could have been one of their operatives. Yet something about him didn’t seem like them. The expression in his eyes. The way he stood –stern, commanding– with a single raised eyebrow that spoke volumes.

“Try looking with your eyes and not with a weapon,” he suggested. “Hard to see clearly with that in the way.”

“I like my gun.” Her finger tightened on the trigger; and a smile flickered across his face. 

“Yes, _you_ do.” His voice was crisp, a slight undertone of amused indulgence. “But I don't. Now, put it away... or are you planning to kill me again? My stock in bananas has dried up.”

A flash of memory. A banana in her hand instead of a gun, the Doctor’s triumphant smile; even though he should have realised, years of _kill, Melody, any means available_ meant that she could even have found a way to use that fruit as a weapon. And she could kill him now… but River bit her lip, hard enough to distract herself. She lowered her arm slowly, staring hard at him.

“You've changed.” She kept her voice flat enough to make it clear she didn't quite trust him; and he frowned, his eyes following her every movement as she holstered her gun, walking the few paces across the room toward him.

“So have you. And not too long ago, if you'll remember? It's fine. I don't hold your changes against you.”

A ridiculous statement: and she could tell by his sardonic smirk that he knew it. She stopped right in front of him, her arms held rigidly against her sides. This was a Doctor so unlike the one she’d killed in Berlin. Older. Serious and austere with his greying hair and stern features. She didn’t need to touch him to see the physical changes, but suddenly she _wanted_ to. To ruffle the cropped hair at his nape, slide her fingers along the planes of his face, across the bridge of his nose, along his cheek and down the side of his neck until she could choke the life from his body.

 _No._ Her body was trembling, fighting against the vestigial bits of training that even just his name seemed to evoke. _Control yourself, damn it. This is them: their words, their commands. Not you… why would you need to hurt him? He’s not even doing anything…_

He wasn’t. The Doctor was standing perfectly still. But his eyes were moving, rapidly sweeping over her, taking in every flicker of expression on her face, lingering on her hair, noticing everything she might want to hide. As though –in his own way- he was mapping her out as completely as she was doing him; until she finally took a ragged breath, stepping away.

“Regeneration _is_ a lottery, isn’t it?”

“Some people get better with age,” said the Doctor.

“And some people get…Scottish?”

“I should have known you’d bring that up. I can do without the insinuations about your Mother, if you don’t mind.”

“No insinuations,” said River. “Plenty of jokes, though. Get used to them; you’re the one who chose to regenerate into a grumpy Scot. And an elderly one, at that.”

He scowled. “Can’t ever please you, can I? And let me guess. No matter the teasing, you did always like the smiling young man with a bowtie. Sorry. You’ve got me, today. No smile, but twice the eyebrows.”

He sounded so exasperated that her lips twitched before she looked quickly away, trying to school her expression into a semblance of seriousness.

“I don’t think I was expecting you at all. You left me here four months ago, telling me that I’ll be amazing and University wouldn't hurt. But you haven’t been back since."

“You were busy,” said the Doctor. “River Song; probably the only person in the Universe who doesn't need me to hold her hand when she tries something new.

“Why?” he demanded. “Did you want me here?”

“I don’t need help from anyone,” River snapped before she could help it. “And least of all from you.”

“I knew that,” said the Doctor. His face was expressionless, but there was the faintest glimmer in his eyes at her words. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was hurt.

“So then. You still thought I should… what? Lurk in the back of your lecture halls and take you out for ice cream when you did well? Try to interfere in your life when you don’t want me?”

River shrugged helplessly. No, of course she wouldn’t have wanted that. But he’d left her there. Bored. Thinking that this couldn’t be all there was to life from now on.

“I thought you’d want to come back and check on me,” River said, aware of how petulant she sounded. Like a child; hardly the way she’d like the Doctor to think of her. If he thought of her at all… and considering that four months ago she wouldn’t have cared, she wondered briefly why his opinion mattered to her at all, now.

“Oh,” said the Doctor wryly. “Am I dreaming? Thought I’d stopped that a while ago. Because I thought, River Song, that currently I am standing here at the Luna University. In front of you.”

“You are.” 

“Then how have I not returned?”

Infuriating man. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, shoulders tensed; and she could tell he noticed. But he didn’t move away; not even by the slightest fraction of an inch. She might have been a little impressed by that. Most people would have wanted to run from her in a temper… not that the Doctor was most people. 

She dropped her gaze down, consciously trying to relax. Deep breath in and out, again and again; until she thought she could sound normal.

“I thought you’d come back _sooner_. Four months, Doctor. Of classes and lectures about nothing interesting, with people who bore me. What you said in Berlin, about… me. I thought it meant –“

His fingers twitched, as though he was about to reach out to her; and River flinched slightly. She didn’t _do_ touch these days. Not unless she initiated it.

But he didn’t. Merely tilted his head toward her, craning his neck down until he could meet her eyes.  
“You didn’t need me around while you were trying to learn how to shake out the ghosts in your brain. Not,” he added, “that they go away. The longer you live, the sturdier they are. But it takes time after regeneration, until you become who you’re meant to be.”

“And then I’ll be amazing?” she asked sarcastically; but he only nodded curtly, not rising to the bait.

“In time. And time,” added the Doctor, “is something that I could give you.”

“Being a Time Lord.”

“Exactly. Time Lords. Haven’t learned too much about them yet, have you?”

Only what had been drilled into her head. _Time Lords. Ancient manipulators of time and space. Selfish, devious… and don’t ever forget, Melody, that the Doctor is the worst of them all. A vicious tyrant who will bring down the Universe until you fulfil your purpose._

She shrugged, as though the action could shake off the voice within her mind. “Should I? You told me to come here, if you remember. Didn’t tell me what to study.”

His lips quirked upwards slightly. “No, I didn’t. Thought natural curiosity would win out…

“Well.” He stood up straighter, gesturing toward the door. “We can talk about your future academics later. For now: I believe that your first semester is over? Good grades?”

So help her, he sounded like a questioning parent. River scowled at him.

“Excellent,” she said flatly.

“Can’t say I expected anything else of you,” said the Doctor. “Well then, you must be on break? So I was thinking... what would you say to a little trip as a reward? Somewhere you’ve never seen before; and wouldn’t _that_ be something that won’t bore you?”

River gave him a suspicious look. He had fobbed her off with a suggestion of school before, never even mentioned travelling with him; so why this offer now? She would have said no… but the Doctor looked back at her, his eyes alight with a certain devilish glee that made her arch an eyebrow curiously.

“You are good at that, aren’t you?” she asked. “Offering options that I just can’t refuse.”

“Spoilers,” said the Doctor.

* * *

The TARDIS was different than the last time she’d seen it. Dark and metallic, instead of glass and crystalline clarity. Orange roundels of light on the walls, bookshelves and blackboards everywhere. But she felt the same -warm, welcoming, loving- and in just a few moments of wandering the room in silence, River felt herself relax; shoulders unknotting from tension, turmoil in her mind ceasing until she found her feet had carried her back to the time rotor, facing the Doctor.

“I’ve redecorated,” he said, interrupting River’s quiet scrutiny. “I suppose you don’t like it?” 

He was busy at the controls typing in coordinates, not even looking at her; and she pulled her eyes from examining the room to watch him. The effect of the rich plum velvet jacket draped on his lean form, the deliberate movements of slender, long-fingered hands… outwardly such a contrast to his other self, who had been hot despite his ineffectual appearance.

 _This_ Doctor was something else though; and she had to admit, she didn’t mind the changes. River licked her lips, fighting down an inappropriate urge to march over and grab him; and for a reason other than hurting him…

 _No._ Crazy thoughts to be having about the two of them, the memory of that kiss in Berlin aside, and her suspicion of who River Song could be to him. She shook her head, feeling somehow exasperated with herself. Somehow it never failed. Alone, her training ran circles in her brain. Words learned by rote, hatred filling her mind until she longed to lash out at anyone in her way, hurt and maim, kill kill kill.

In front of him… her thoughts seemed to go in a different tangent. It had happened the same way in Berlin. The Doctor seemed to draw her in despite herself... and River found herself leaning slightly toward him; not enough so they were touching, but close enough to feel the warmth of him against her skin. 

The Doctor closed his eyes, swallowing reflexively but not moving himself as she leaned closer, her bare arm brushing against his sleeve, trembling at the contact even as she wondered at herself. No flinching, for a change. No angry thoughts. Her mind felt clearer in the TARDIS. Less fighting against itself…. But still, not enough that she trusted herself. She moved away, a fraction of a step, and the Doctor’s eyes snapped open again, his breathing rapid.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she murmured finally in response to his question, resting her hand on the console to feel the hum of vortex energy vibrating beneath her fingers. “But isn’t there an actual library? Why do you have all the books out here?”

“My TARDIS,” he said defensively. “I can put books wherever I’d like.” 

“You sound biased against libraries.”

His eyes looked suddenly dark and shadowed. “Maybe,” the Doctor admitted. “Useless things, libraries.”

“And here I thought that learning never hurt?” She was throwing his words –albeit, words from his other self- back at him. He scowled in response.

“Learning doesn’t hurt. Libraries… now, that’s a different matter.”

“Books can kill?” River couldn’t help teasing him, but his scowl deepened.

“Never know what shadows are hidden between the words of a page.”

She wanted to ask more but the TARDIS made an apologetic whine, putting on a burst of speed before gracefully lurching to a stop. The Doctor checked the monitor, nodding in satisfaction.

“Now,” he said. “The complaint was that you were bored. Nothing interesting at the University? Maybe you’d like to do the honours, then?” He waved his hand, long fingers pointing toward the doors with a very sly smirk on his face as River walked quickly toward them, her hearts beating faster.

Truthfully, she wasn’t certain what she’d expected, but this… it was a sight unlike anything the Luna had to offer. Fields of red grass stretching out in front of them, long-legged gazelle-like creatures ranging through. The sky was a pale umber, twin suns high above; and River stepped out the doors to feel their warmth on her skin and take a deep breath of air that smelled crisp and tantalizingly heavy with the scents of lavender and bergamot. The Doctor followed her outside, a bemused expression on his face. He seemed to be watching _her_ more than the landscape… she supposed that to him, this was familiar enough that he didn’t need turn in circles, taking everything in. 

She did, though. There were mountains off in the distance, rising high enough that their peaks were obscured by clouds. Pale silvery smudges of a forest to the other side, a far off glimmer that hinted at waterfalls. Behind them was a sprawling city, with a high, arched Dome in the distance. Her senses told her that this didn’t look like anywhere she knew… but it still felt familiar, deep inside her hearts…

“We’re not at the Luna,” she blurted out. “Or on Earth…”

“Really? What gave that away?” His words were sarcastic, but the tone... As though he was trying to be gruff but couldn't help the humour creeping around the edges. River snuck a look at him, her throat tight at seeing the way his blue eyes were alight with something like affection… because that was just wrong. She wanted to shout at him… didn’t he know? She could tell that he _did_ just from the way he kept his distance; her training was still effective, wearing away at her mind. The nightmares if she slept, the voice urging _kill, kill the tyrant_ echoing in her ears whenever she saw anything that even vaguely reminded her of him… until she stamped those reflexes down beneath the minutia of academic thoughts and unswerving control.

So he had no right to look at her like that. Like he delighted in her company, even if she was being difficult.

“Must you sound like that?” She couldn't help snapping at him, and all at once, the humour dropped from his face as he stared coolly back at her.

"Must _you_ say ridiculous things when you’re young?”

“I wish,” River said, narrowing her eyes at him, “that just once, I could meet you when you’re younger and tease you with comments like that.”

“Always wondered how that got started,” said the Doctor absently. “Be careful what you wish for. Time travel has consequences in the order of events.

“Now, River. Not on Earth; yes, very good. What gave it away? The suns? The grass?”

“The fact that it looks like Earth through some sort of colour filter?”

“I wouldn’t say something like that; most of the native people here would take offense. Gallifrey being anything like Earth? A terrible notion. And wrong. We came first… Earth is nothing but a badly coloured copy with an emphasis on singularity. One sun, one heart – “

“Your egos are certainly doubled as well,” River muttered.

He raised an eyebrow. “A necessity.”

“So you say, sweetie.”

He looked sharply at her, and River’s cheeks flushed. She wondered if she could blame it on the heat, that endearment slipping out. But then he grinned at her, his entire face relaxing and eyes lit in a warm smile. They looked bluer here; a bright, enticing ice blue.

She might have liked that, just a little bit. It suited him.

“I do say so,” he commented. “If you’re finished insulting me for now, I’ll show you around.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Well,” said the Doctor casually. “You wouldn’t be River without a few insults thrown in on occasion. Wouldn’t have thought I’d miss that… Suppose even I can be surprised?” She didn't have an answer to that; but it wasn't as though he waited for one.

“Been a while since I was here, but I think I might remember some of the important places.” He lifted his hand, (River couldn't help it: her body tensed as at least five attack scenarios ran through her mind) and his expression sobered. But he didn’t move toward her. Only made a tiny gesture toward the city behind them.

“Come on, then,” the Doctor said in a gentler voice. “First time I’ve been able to return in centuries, and you’re the only one I would share this with. Gallifrey; the home of the noble race of Time Lords. Not something you see every day… and aren’t you curious, River? About a new place?”

She was, actually. Even with everything she’d been taught about the Doctor, her minders had known very little about Gallifrey itself to pass on… and River hated not knowing something. 

So she shrugged with a careful nonchalance that she had a feeling didn’t fool the Doctor in the least. 

“I suppose. So long as we're here.”

“Off we go then,” said the Doctor. He wasn’t looking at her, but she fancied she could hear a wry amusement in his voice. “And tone down that enthusiasm. It's deafening.”

The Doctor kept up a brief –but relentless- commentary on local customs and foods and districts with each street they passed; but River just looked around, not knowing quite to say in response. In fact, she wasn’t certain what she would have expected of the ancient planet of Gallifrey. Probably heart-stopping beauty or intimidating elegance… but this -the Low City, as the Doctor called it- was neither. It was grubby and seedy and overcrowded. River scurried alongside the Doctor, feeling supremely unimpressed.

“So,” she finally interrupted him, “this is the ancient dwelling of the Time Lords?” He grumbled, glancing down at her.

“Hardly. This is the dwelling of nearly everyone else. The poor, the working classes… the Time Lords stay up on high at the Citadel.”

“Oh, of course. The Citadel. Lovely name; how elitist of your people.”

He shrugged. “That sums them up, yes.”

“Then you’ve brought me to…” She paused, absent-mindedly reaching behind her to find the questing stranger’s hand that had just reached for her pocket. A quick clasp and deadly twist in just the right spot to break bones – her fingernails dug in hard enough to draw blood – a cry of pain – and the hand dropped away so she could catch up to the Doctor.

“You’ve brought me to the slums of Gallifrey,” River finished. “With the pickpockets and murderers?”

“Try not to get any ideas,” said the Doctor.

“Oh,” said River. “I can take care of myself.”

He stared at her unblinking, before glancing behind them. A small scuffle had broken out, the faint wail of someone hurt; and he sighed.

“I should have sent a memo that _they_ should protect themselves from _you_.”

“What, you think whatever just happened was because of me?”

Now there were shouts of outrage, and voices chiming ‘summon the Watch!’

“Yes,” said the Doctor decisively. But there was the slightest smile on his face as he shook his head.

“So difficult when you’re young… Well.” He glanced surreptitiously around, pulling out his sonic to furtively wave it at a small conveyance parked on the street. River stared at it, not sure what it was. It seemed rather like adult’s version of a baby’s pram: a squat, grey half-spheroid shape with a round hinged cover and wheels on the bottom.

“If I can tear you away, I suggest we leave before the Watch investigates. They do come through here on their rounds.” He opened an unnoticed door in the side, ushering her in before going around the driver’s side. River bounced experimentally on the seat, eyeing the flat, blank panel before them curiously. 

“What is this thing?”

“Gravcar,” said the Doctor shortly, pulling a handful of wires up from underneath the panel and scrutinizing them. “Local form of transport; the TARDIS isn’t designed to zip down the street.” He connected two of them –black to red- and there was a tiny spark. River rolled her eyes.

“Blue, Doctor. Not black.” He grunted but did as she said, then lay his hands flat on the panel, fingers slightly splayed… and the car shuddered into life, propelling itself forward shakily on its wheels before rising in the air. River’s breath caught as she leaned out. They weren’t high up at all –centimetres, perhaps– but it did make their momentum travelling down the streets that much quicker. She hastily shifted her weight back again; the Doctor didn’t pause before going into the turns at all, and she had to grab onto the side to prevent herself from being thrown right against him.

“I don’t think you should ever be allowed behind the wheel of a vehicle again,” she said breathlessly. “Ever heard of brakes?”

“You and brakes,” he answered. She was positive he added an extra flounce into the next turn, just to jolt her. “Too much or too little; never right for you.”

“Sorry,” River muttered. “I just thought that if we’re escaping the Watch, that you might want to be careful of causing an accident… or don’t Gallifreyans worry about traffic accidents?”

“Not really,” said the Doctor, slowing down just a little. “We’re remarkably resilient.”

“And thieves, too? Pickpocket in the marketplace… and now you,” she mocked, “just stole a gravcar.”

“Borrowed,” answered the Doctor. “We’ll bring it back eventually, no worse for the wear. This time.” His last words were murmured in a low voice, a vague amused nostalgia colouring both words; and River leaned in to him. Closer, in fact, than she’d been for the entire trip so far.

“Doctor… do we have some sort of history of stealing cars?”

He shrugged. “Something like that. But we always return them.”

“Do we?”

“Anyway,” he said quickly, “we have the TARDIS. What would you plan to do with a Gallifreyan gravcar if we kept it?”

Possibilities were racing through her mind. Strip it for parts. Sell it to the highest bidder. She glanced at the Doctor. He was watching her from the corner of his eye… but there was something about the smirk on his lips that was so wicked she suddenly couldn’t help the flirtatiousness of her response.

“Oh,” River said mildly, “I could think of something.”

He couldn’t control his face for a moment. Mouth gaping, both eyebrows rising in surprise before he caught himself.

“You always do,” he answered with his smile a fragile, tentative thing; as though he wasn’t certain that she would welcome that from him. 

And she _shouldn’t_. Sharing a laugh with the Doctor felt even more intimate than that kiss in Berlin… But the breeze from their rapid drive whipped through her curls, the air was still scented with the heady aroma of bergamot even here within the city; and the voice drilled into her head _-he is a trickster and liar, never to be trusted-_ felt far away and easy to ignore. River grinned at him; and at once his smile got wider, more confident.

“You’re wasting your time,” said the Doctor. “This face doesn’t blush that easily.”

“This face,” teased River, “is a liar. You’re a little pink around the edges, Doctor.”

“You’re too young to be such a bad girl,” he scolded.

“Will I corrupt you?”

His eyes were back on the street, but his smile never faltered. “Constantly. And I never mind a moment of it.

“Now,” said the Doctor. He didn’t lift his hands from the control panel, but jerked his chin up to gesture before them. “That’s the Citadel. “We won’t go in the main entrance; the Watch is there. There are a lot of side doors though… my friends and I used them to sneak into the Low City when we were at the Academy.”

“And you say that _I’m_ a bad girl? For a little flirting; when you steal cars, and used to sneak out of school…”

“Yes, yes,” said the Doctor hurriedly. “We’re a matched pair all right, River.”

 _Bespoke._ The word was on her lips, but she didn’t have time to say it as they whisked in through a side door, barely wide enough for the gravcar to fit through. The Doctor parked neatly, and she was out the door before he could manage to open it for her. They were in a hallway open to one side, and high enough to look down and see the bustle below them as Time Lords went about their business.

“So,” River said quietly. She had a feeling voices echoed in here. “The Low City is a slum and the Citadel is… a warren?”

He laughed softly. “Widdershins to exit, just remember that. The passages are circular here; the floors rising in a sphere. We are beneath a Dome, River.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I believe I remembered that, thank you. Where are we going?”

“Ah.” He looked around. “We’re going fifty floors down. Our clothes don’t fit in; we’ll have to borrow something if we’re going to move around without being noticed.”

“And you’ve got a friend just dying to lend us…” her voice trailed off as she scrutinised the people below them. “You’re got a friend just dying to lend us a bathrobe?”

He grumbled inarticulately for a moment; and she paused, listening. It wasn’t English… she could sense that the TARDIS translation matrix was at work in her ears and he was speaking Gallifreyan. Beautiful language; slippery vowel sounds, and a pleasing heft to the phrases. Pity he was using it for some inventive swears… 

“Language,” River murmured as she followed him to the lifts. "And I don't believe that last thing is anatomically possible."

He grumbled louder for a moment before stopping to glare at her. “You ought to stop relying on the TARDIS translation and learn Gallifreyan properly for yourself.”

“I hardly think they teach that at University.”

“Ah, but you'll never find out if you really do leave after one semester,” he retorted. “And so you know, I don’t make fun of the things humans wear.”

That didn't tally with what River remembered Amy saying. She raised an eyebrow wordlessly, pleased to see a slight flush on his cheeks.

“Well,” he amended. “Not all the time. But then I have always preferred my own inimitable sense of style.”

“Which I’ve seen pictures of; and I applaud you. Not everyone can wear a vegetable as an accessory.”

“It went with the suit,” grumbled the Doctor, trying to look sternly dignified and only succeeding in making her want to giggle.

Fifty floors down, the Citadel was far busier than the empty hallway they’d landed in; but the Doctor gestured left and right to keep them hidden until they arrived at the right room. He leaned over, his face inches from the door as River watched in confusion at the small, round screen that slid out, rising until it was level with his eye – then, disgustingly, _in_ his eye – and then there was a _click_ as the door unlatched itself, sliding open.

“Eye lock,” said the Doctor shortly, walking in.

“I didn’t ask-“

“No, but you were about to.”

“On Gallifrey, you can lock something with your eyeball?”

“Not just locks. You won’t believe the hi-tech keyboards for the computer systems until you see them.” The Doctor smirked at her, and River sighed, not only from imagining it but the pun.

“Charming, but I think I’d rather not. What’s wrong with fingers?”

“Nothing. But,” said the Doctor, striding around the room and producing two long, dark garments, “boring, don’t you think?”

She grimaced, throwing the robe on over her clothing, as he did. “I see your point.”

“Thought you might.” His voice was muffled, hidden by the folds of fabric until his head popped back out the top and he hastily tugged it down, frowning at his reflection in the mirror until he was satisfied.

“Perfect,” said the Doctor. “Ugly heavy clothing. We can blend in with the natives.”  
“You _are_ a native.”

“And you’ve got two hearts.”

“Which makes me…?”

“A person with a binary vascular system, like the rest of us here. Now, hush. Where we’re going, you’ll have to be quiet, River.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun.”

He fixed her with a glare that would have been far more intimidating if not for the amused expression in his eyes.

“Come on,” he said, ushering her back through the doors and down the hallway one more. “One thing I especially wanted you to see here on Gallifrey.”

She followed him, curious enough to be obedient and not say anything until they had walked through a giant arch, and the Doctor put out a hand to stop her, leaning forward just enough to whisper into her ear.

“It’s called the Panopticon.”

She was too distracted by his closeness, the warmth of his breath on her neck, his lips close enough to ruffle her curls to think about his words for a moment. River swayed on the balls of her feet, unconsciously tilting her face toward him. Close enough to kiss… and wasn’t it funny that just a few hours ago, she would have thought of killing and not kissing as the first order of business…

His mouth was centimetres from hers, a smile hovering over his lips. “This isn’t the time or place for that, River.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she protested.

“We’re close to the Eye of Harmony here. Right above it in fact… and it heightens Time Lord senses. Especially telepathy.”

“Oh.” She pulled away from him, nervously smoothing down her robe. “So… what you’re saying is that you could just read my mind.”

“You were practically shouting.”

“Rude to listen, though.”

“Not if it’s about me.”

River raised her chin self-consciously, deliberately avoiding his eyes as she drew upon her mental defences, spinning thick walls around her mind. 

“I reserve the right to keep my thoughts private, Doctor.”  
He looked instantly contrite. “You do. Especially after…” The Doctor frowned, moving a step away. “After Kovarian. I understand.” He gestured toward an empty bench made of the same white marble as the floor, and they sat down together, not speaking.

It might have been, River thought, the first time this entire trip he didn’t have some sort of commentary about what they were seeing, the history behind it. Her eyes slid toward his face, to find that he was watching her intently.

“You’re making me nervous,” complained River.

“Not my intention,” said the Doctor promptly.

“Then what is your intention?”

He looked down at his hands, resting on his lap. “This is the meeting place of the Time Lords,” he said, instead of answering her question. “Six sides, with a statue of the Founders on each side. The Academies competed, each one certain that their statue would be bigger and better than the rest. In the end, nobody won, though,” he admitted ruefully, “one college did go bankrupt with the effort.

“Where we came in is ours; from the Prydon Academy.”

River looked across the room at each entrance, only now realising that what she’d previously thought was an arch were legs; and she started to laugh softly.

“We walked between his legs? That’s a bit perverse, Doctor.”

“I always thought that too; but shush,” he scolded softly. “Most of the people here would be insulted to hear you laughing.”

“So,” she said, trying to calm down. “You were saying? The Panopticon; the meeting place of the Time Lords?”

The Doctor was looking around, smiling nostalgically. “Over there,” he murmured, gesturing toward one side of the room filled with people chatting in quiet voices over checked boards. “Time Lords invented chess; did you know that? Usually at least ten games going… sometimes the matches last for decades.”

“Nothing like knowing you’ve got a few regenerations in which to contemplate your next move,” said River.

“And there’s always a choir chanting. Very repetitious. Irritates your brain at first, and then it’s rather like meditation.”

“Sorry,” said River cheerfully. “I anticipate it being stuck on irritating for me.”

He frowned at her. “I wanted you to understand why people come here.”

“Meeting place does tend to imply ‘a place to meet’.”

“Must you be so…” He sighed. “Do something for me, River. Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve asked you to?”

“Does that usually work on me?”

The Doctor gave her a grudging smile. “No. Not on you. Please, River?”

“Fine.” She obediently let her eyelids flutter shut. “Just because you beg so prettily.”

He made a sound suspiciously like a snort. “I learned from the best. Now, take a deep breath – do you feel that?”

She didn’t feel anything. Frustration, maybe. Confusion about why he wanted her eyes closed and what he expected from her… and then she could hear it… no, not hear it. Feel it: the hum of energy tingling in her bones, her pulse racing from the swirl of energy playing along her skin like a cool breeze.

Too much sensation from something she wasn’t certain was real. River was trembling until she blindly stretched her hand out to feel fingers entwine with her own; their warmth shocking against her colder ones. She couldn’t bear being touched, usually. And him… she had tried, after Berlin, to avoid touching him. Too confusing; too much against the mantras drilled into her head from infancy.

But here in the Panopticon, it felt right. _They_ felt right; as though they fit.

“The Eye of Harmony is beneath us.” The Doctor was whispering straight into her ear. “And the Time Lords come here because even if they don’t realise it, it centres us. Heals our souls from hurt.”

“I’m not a Time Lord,” River muttered, her eyes still closed.

“Oh,” said the Doctor dismissively, “you’re Time Lord enough. Once upon a time, the Academies accepted people from outside Gallifrey, you know. What mattered was intelligence… the analytic mind that could grasp past and present and future all at once, and the persistence in studying.

“And,” he added, “we wanted people strong enough to withstand pain and loss, and come back stronger.”

“Hardly me though, is it?” She felt braver with her eyes closed, their fingers still entwined and the Doctor’s lean body pressed side-to-side against hers. Brave enough to admit what she tried not to think about.

“I killed you, Doctor.” 

She could feel his laughter, more than hear it. “I told you, River. We’re remarkably resilient.”

“But I did it. And I could do it again… It's in my head. The damage that won’t ever heal. I could hurt you right now…”

“Except that you won’t.” He sounded very sure of himself; and strange that she found it more endearing than irritating. 

“The Time Lords would love you,” said the Doctor. She felt him lift both their hands, his lips brushing over her knuckles. “Who you are, River. Who you’ll become… because haven’t you felt it, today? The TARDIS, and being here on Gallifrey only help what’s inside you. The intelligence and strength to resist anything that might kill a lesser person.”

River frowned, considering his words. If she concentrated, she could hear the traces of that nagging voice in her mind – _he is a liar, a murderer, kill the Doctor_ \- that always seemed to be with her; but the longer she sat there, the more it seemed to be dampened, drowned out by the humming of energy from the Eye of Harmony.

River opened her eyes to find the Doctor watching her closely, her hand still wrapped in his and held against his chest. She could feel his hearts thudding against her fingers, and she managed a small smile as she hesitantly slid even closer to him, sliding her free arm around his waist.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered.

“I will be,” she corrected him. He bent his head so that his lips brushed lightly over hers; before he pulled away with a proud smile. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the most relaxed than she could ever remember feeling. The Doctor beside her, the warm hum of the vortex vibrating through her entire body, her mind at peace.

“In so many ways,” murmured the Doctor, “you already are.”


End file.
